#34

Liturgy Notes

4-9-06

Holy Week, Part III:
Good Friday of the Lord's Passion


It is said that the name "Good Friday" came from the old German designation "Gute Freitag," God's Friday. On this day, we meditate on Christ's passion, not only with words, but with the power of silent looks and gestures.


The relic of the titulum--"the inscription "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews," written in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew was venerated by Egeria in Jerusalem in the 4th century, and is now venerated by pilgrims to Rome at the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme.
 

The Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday ends without any formal dismissal; the Celebration of the Lord's Passion on Good Friday begins without any formal introduction, not even the sign of the cross. This is one great liturgy, and our prayer flows without interruption, as it were, from one celebration into the next.

An Ancient Prayer

    It is said that the most solemn liturgies of the year--particularly those of the Triduum--are also those that retain the most elements from ancient times. That is true of Good Friday, which in its broad outlines has changed very little over the centuries. In the beginning, Good Friday was simply a day for fast and mourning. But very early on, the faithful began to gather together for formal prayer on this day. The fourth-century pilgrim Egeria describes a Good Friday which we would recognize today. "All the people pass through one by one; all of them bow down, touching the cross and inscription, first with their forehead, and then with their eyes; and, after kissing the cross, they move on."" The reading of the prophets and of the passion of Christ formed the second part of the people's prayer: "first, whichever Psalms speak of the Passion are read. Next there are readings from the apostles" wherever they speak of the Passion of the Lord. Next, the texts of the Passion from the Gospels are read" And so, from the sixth to the ninth hour passages from Scripture are continuously read and hymns are sung, to show the people that whatever the prophets had said would come to pass concerning the Passion of the Lord can be shown to have taken place". At each reading and at every prayer, it is astonishing how much emotion and groaning there is from all the people. There is no one, young or old, who on this day does not sob more than can be imagined for the whole three hours, because the Lord suffered all this for us."

    In Rome, the Good Friday celebration took a similar shape. By the seventh century, it consisted of three principal parts: veneration, readings, communion. The Pope, barefoot, carried a relic of the true cross from St. John Lateran to Santa Croce, the Church of the Holy Cross, built to house the relics which the Empress Helena had brought back from Jerusalem. On arriving at Santa Croce, the Pope, with his ministers, prostrated himself before the altar in and prayed in silence. During the veneration of this relic by the faithful, readings from the prophets were read, as well as the passion of Christ from St. John's gospel. The prayers of the faithful or the general intercessions (then, as now, a regular part of the liturgy) followed. At the end of the liturgy all received communion.

    During the Middle Ages, the shape of the Good Friday liturgy was formalized. The communion rite became the much more elaborate "Mass of the Pre-sanctified." Since the people no longer received communion frequently, eventually the priest alone consumed the host (consecrated the day before, at the Holy Thursday Mass, hence "pre-sanctified"). After the Council of Trent, this historical development became a rule. Meanwhile, the general intercessions were gradually dropped from the liturgy, until they survived only on Good Friday.

    With the reform of Holy Week in 1955, the celebration of the Lord's Passion took the shape we know today. The communion of the faithful was restored and the rites surrounding it simplified. The liturgical color was changed from black to red. The emphasis of the liturgy is now less on mourning for Christ's sufferings, than on pondering the mystery of his sacrifice. Lawrence Johnson observes, "there is a note of sadness, but it is also a day for hope, a day for remembering that it is through the paschal mystery in its totality that we join Christ in conquering death and in gaining life anew." Even on this day when the sanctuary lamp is out and the tabernacle empty, we receive communion, the body of the crucified and risen Lord.

Praying without Words

    For the pilgrim Egeria, and those who joined her for Holy Week in Jerusalem, the high point of the celebration on Good Friday was the veneration of the relics of the true Cross. To see, to touch, to kiss the cross on which Christ was crucified was to come close to the mystery of his death. That sense of tangible closeness to the passion of Christ is still felt in the Church's observance of Good Friday.

    The liturgy begins in total simplicity. All--priests and people--sit together in silent prayer. Then the priests move to the altar and prostrate themselves before it. The people kneel. The entire assembly prays together, without words. From the beginning it is clear that on this day, the silent gesture will say as much as the spoken words.

    At the heart of the liturgy for Good Friday is the veneration of the cross. It begins with the showing of the cross to the people. We see the cross every day; but only today is it shown to us, not once, but three times, with the insistent reminder, "This is the wood of the cross, on which hung the Savior of the world," to which we respond, "Come, let us worship."

    After the solemn showing of the cross, we come forward to venerate the cross individually. Accompanying the veneration are ancient words, one of the only surviving Greek prayers in the liturgy. "Holy is God! Holy and strong! Holy immortal One, have mercy on us!" This three-fold acclamation, called the trisagion, puts the paradox of Good Friday--the paradox of our Christian faith--into the simplest possible words. We see Jesus at his most vulnerable, and we acknowledge that he is God. We see him at his weakest, dying the death of a condemned man on the cross, and we acknowledge that he is holy and strong. In proclaiming his death, we already acknowledge his resurrection, as we plead with him, the immortal One, to have mercy on us.

    The liturgy of Good Friday concludes with the simple rite of Holy Communion. On this one day of the entire year the Mass is not celebrated. Instead, the hosts consecrated the day before at the Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper are brought to the altar. The Lord's Prayer is sung, communion is distributed, and the liturgy concludes with a simple prayer over the people. That prayer acknowledges both where we have come from, and where we are going in this journey of the Paschal Triduum:

Lord, send down your abundant blessing upon your people
who have devoutly recalled the death of your Son
in the sure hope of the resurrection.
Grant them pardon; bring them comfort.
May their faith grow stronger
and their eternal salvation be assured.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.

The ministers depart without ceremony, and the celebration is over. When we gather again, it will be in the "holy night of Easter," when everything will be made new.

Corinna Laughlin, Pastoral Assistant for Liturgy


The Trial of Emptiness

Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, the late Archbishop of Paris, was raised in a Jewish family. He was a young boy when World War II began, and was sent for his safety away from his home in Paris to the city of Orleans. It was during Holy Week there that he felt called to become a Christian.

One day I stepped into the Cathedral of Orleans, which was on the way I walked each day to school. It stood in the center of a windy square, an enormous edifice, of severe, ravaged beauty, forever under repair. I went in on a day which I now know was Holy Thursday. I stopped in the South Transept, where a rich abundance of flowers and candles was shining. I stayed there for a long moment, struck. I did not know why I was there, nor what was happening inside of me. I did not know the meaning of what I saw. I did not know what feast was being celebrated, nor what the people were doing there, in silence. I returned to my room. I said nothing to anyone.

The next day I returned to the Cathedral. I wanted to see that place again. The church was empty. Spiritually empty as well. I underwent the trial of that emptiness: I did not know that it was Good Friday. At that moment I thought: I want to be baptized.

On Good Friday

On Friday, then, the climax comes, and it is a simple as the death of a child". There is no sacrifice on this day, for all is sacrifice. There is no need for the Holy Ghost to come down, to make the Body of the Son, and touch the Father's Heart, for to-day all the world is Calvary. Yet fragments of the Mass are uttered as by a dreaming priest. The Paternoster is sung; the prayers are said, the Host is consumed; and, in an instant all is over; the black clouds topple over, the gulf is filled, the rending rocks are still again; and I - I was as a man who awakes and sees the sunlight in his room. "

Msgr. R. H. Benson, Holy Week, 1904


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